


Familiar, Yet Not At All

by frozenCinders



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Archer/Kimblee... But Brotherhood, M/M, PWP, Unexplained Dimensional Swap For Smut Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: "I would say you must be even more far gone, but the odd thing is, you're acting saner than ever," he said."If that's the case, I certainly hope my other self isn't out there ruining my reputation..." Kimblee mused, and holy shit was this an entirely different man. He lookedpensive, as if that were something the Kimblee Archer knew could truly pull off. He was actually starting to believe that there really had been some interdimensional swap or something.





	Familiar, Yet Not At All

Archer woke up alone. It wasn't unexpected; he'd known Kimblee was staying out late the previous night. He was probably either still milling around the house or passed out on the couch.

He took care of most of his preparations for the day within his room and the bathroom attached to it. All that was really left was coffee, which Kimblee might have already made.

He walked into the living room and glanced at Kimblee on the couch. Then he stopped in his tracks and did a double take. He was about to ask him about his hair, his expression, his posture, his outfit, _anything_ , but Kimblee spoke first.

"Is this your home, then?" he asked, and his voice was the same but it felt like a different person using it. Wait... twin brother?

"Kimblee?" Archer asked to begin with.

"You recognize me, then," Kimblee mused. He stood and approached Archer with a hand in his pocket and the other on his chin.

"And your first name?"

"Solf."

Archer brought a hand to his temple, wondering if he was dreaming. Was this some strange prank?

"You seem confused, perhaps dazed. Am I not who you were expecting?" Kimblee asked in words he would never use- not like that, at least. Archer could see him talking like that teasingly, sarcastically, but that was it.

"I suppose there's no point, then, in asking why I'm here," Kimblee continued. "Because I certainly didn't come here of my own volition."

"Did someone force you?" Archer asked, finally starting to get his bearings.

"Hm... That must be the case, since I happened to wake up here. Though, how someone brought me here without waking me up, I have no idea. I don't let my guard down often enough to even suspect that I'd been drugged, and I didn't experience any potential side effects on waking up to support that theory."

Alright, Kimblee wasn't by any means stupid, but he certainly didn't talk in a manner so... dignified. Archer had half a mind to retrieve his gun and accuse this man of being an imposter, but an idea crossed his mind.

"Show me your palms," he commanded, with all the confidence of an armed man while his gun was still in the other room.

Kimblee obliged, and the arrays tattooed on them looked exactly how they should. Archer's eyes widened- it really did have to be him, didn't it..?

"You've heard of them?" Kimblee asked.

"... Seen them," Archer corrected. "I have quite a bit of experience with them, in fact."

"Excuse me?"

"Kimblee, is this a joke? Do you have amnesia or something?"

Kimblee looked surprised.

"My memory is flawless. If I can't remember something, I must never have experienced it to begin with," he insisted. "That being said, I do not recognize you in the slightest. What is your name? Your rank?"

Archer stared at him, this man's familiar yet so unfamiliar face set in a serious expression unbefitting the Kimblee he knew.

"Colonel Frank Archer. If you'll recall, I had you exonerated and reinstated into the military not only as a State Alchemist, but as a Lieutenant Colonel to boot."

"Impossible. I was released from prison on orders from the Fuhrer and given authority but no official rank. I didn't receive my pocket watch."

"What? You broke out of prison with that Homunculus!"

"I didn't break out of anywhere. If you're referring to the Homunculus, Envy, who drove me from prison-"

"Greed! You don't remember when I picked you up from the Devil's Nest?"

"Devil's Nest?"

Archer was stunned.

"If you didn't... If the Fuhrer ordered your release, what exactly was he hoping to accomplish?" Archer asked, seeing if he could catch him in a lie.

"There is a certain objective his people are trying to meet, and they happened to be short on talented, motivated individuals," Kimblee explained, seeming like he was tiptoeing around a certain subject.

"What objective?"

"If you don't know, I doubt it's my place to tell you."

Archer grit his teeth. He looked Kimblee over, in a fancy white suit with his hair neatly tied back, standing up straight and proper, displaying no unnecessarily feral grins so far. Why couldn't the real Kimblee be like that, actually?

"Are we in Central right now?" Kimblee asked. "Looking out the window didn't offer much information and I decided against leaving for the moment."

"Yes, we're in Central," Archer told him, tone a little cautious. "Is that where you need to be?"

"Not at all. I'm meant to be up north, at Briggs."

"Briggs? That's days away."

"Which is why I'm puzzled," Kimblee concurred, walking over to the window with his hand on his chin again.

Then he turned to Archer.

"You insist you know me, but you're very confused at the sight of me. Is there some... other version of myself you're familiar with?"

Was this an issue of multiple personalities? No, that couldn't be right. Archer nodded to answer him.

"I would say you must be even more far gone, but the odd thing is, you're acting saner than ever," he said.

"If that's the case, I certainly hope my other self isn't out there ruining my reputation..." Kimblee mused, and holy shit was this an entirely different man. He looked _pensive_ , as if that were something the Kimblee Archer knew could truly pull off. He was actually starting to believe that there really had been some interdimensional swap or something.

"And? Is it otherwise unusual for me to visit you here?" Kimblee asked. Shit, this might be awkward to explain.

"... You live here," Archer started, his mind racing to find an excuse without simply lying to this observant man. He'd almost certainly call him out on it immediately were he to lie to him.

"This is my house... and yours as well?" Kimblee guessed, though appearing unbothered. Again, Archer nodded, this time a little unenthused- almost embarrassed.

"It was meant to be temporary, but..."

"But?"

Kimblee stepped closer, and Archer could tell he already knew the answer. Maybe it was because he looked bigger in all those layers, or more proper than usual, but Archer found himself slightly intimidated by him. It was eerily pleasant.

"Take a guess."

He took another step closer.

"Was it one-sided?"

"... At first, perhaps."

"From the other me's side, I would presume."

Presume? His choice of words and way of speaking in general kept throwing Archer off.

"But now it's consensual, isn't it?" he asked, and there was that feral smile Archer knew so well. It was slightly different, not as crooked, but it felt the same.

"It is," Archer breathed, his instincts suddenly screaming at him. He looked up at the clock and- shit.

"We're-... I'm going to be late for work if I don't leave soon. Your other self tries to make me late often enough, I don't need both of you doing it," he half-complained, speedwalking to the kitchen to find that no coffee had been made, of course.

Kimblee silently followed him. As Archer got everything out and set the coffee to brew, Kimblee was closer than ever, standing immediately behind him.

"Let me guess, you're a diligent, intelligent man who has no trouble manipulating people to get his way." Kimblee's breath was on his neck and it had never quite been unpleasant, but now, for some reason, it was unfortunately very arousing.

"You could say that, yes."

"And this other version of me, is he quite unhinged? A matter of opposites attracting?"

"A messy, excitable rulebender who refuses to wear his uniform correctly. I'd say he's my opposite, yes."

Kimblee had been slowly inching forward and Archer allowed him, against his better judgement, to pin him against the counter with his hips.

"I would say I'm pragmatic and, while certainly destruction-oriented, I prefer to keep things tidy and proper. If opposites attract, I suppose I would expect my soulmate to be some clumsy recruit with no resolve to kill. Maybe it would be a one night stand until it grew into something more."

Archer was starting to wonder where this was going.

"But I think I would prefer a like-minded individual. Someone like yourself," he finished, resting his chin on Archer's shoulder. He wasn't putting all of his weight behind it like his other self would.

"So what you're saying is that no matter who you are, you'll always go after me?"

The smile Archer felt against his neck was slow.

"Be late for work," Kimblee suggested more than commanded, but Archer felt the excruciating desire to obey.

The other version of him was cocky but seemed to belong under Archer. Whenever he'd talk about switching roles, Archer dismissed the idea with hardly a care. But this Kimblee exuded a certain aura of dominance; exactly what Archer thought he'd desire in a partner before his version of Kimblee came along. Archer swallowed. This man smelled like expensive cologne the Kimblee he knew would gag at and it was already imprinting itself into his memory.

"If you're so much more clever than he is, I expect you to think up an excellent excuse for me," Archer said. He kept his submission out of his tone, but his words expressed it well enough.

"Unforeseen circumstances that couldn't be helped." Kimblee's tone was nonchalant even as he unbuttoned Archer's uniform. "A stranger pinned you down."

He was essentially a stranger, wasn't he? Did this count as cheating? Kimblee was sinking his teeth into Archer's neck- gently, but noticeably- and when Archer turned slightly to look at him, it was undoubtedly Kimblee. Yet at the same time, not at all.

"Will we be moving this to the bedroom?" Archer asked. Without even releasing Archer's neck from his teeth, Kimblee took his arms, his uniform pooling around them at the elbows, and held them behind his back.

"Here's fine," Kimblee said, and the lack of intonation was somehow even more arousing than when his Kimblee would growl at him.

Archer had to wonder if Kimblee was planning to turn him around and sit him up on the counter or if he'd-

Kimblee gently pushed Archer down until his torso rested against the counter, deciding their position before Archer could think about it for too long. Kimblee followed him down, moving slowly and calmly and so _differently_ than usual, than his frenzied puppy. If one thing was similar, it was that his movements were quite assured.

A pleased hum and the sound of movement behind him indicated that Kimblee decided to ditch a few layers of his suit. He released Archer's arms for a moment, no doubt trusting him to hold still, and Archer could have ran for his gun but he stayed, missing the extra weight already. Kimblee was back on him in no time, now having produced something to hold Archer's wrists behind his back with, and Archer made an almost choked sound as he tried to swallow a moan.

"No," he said, finding his voice, "I want you to hold them yourself."

"Oh? I hope you don't expect me to be able to do much for you if my hands are to be occupied," Kimblee said, a clear smile in his voice as he placed the restraints on the counter. Archer glanced at them and saw the telltale signs of alchemy. He considered asking what Kimblee transmuted into them but refused to breach the mood.

So many images flooded Archer's mind now, images of this version of Kimblee having access to everything Archer's version would joke about. Him fucking Archer's mouth with a firm hand in his hair, him splaying Archer out on the desk, only a _hint_  of frenzy visible in his eyes, him tying Archer to the bed or the wall or _anything_  and doing whatever the hell he pleased with him. Dominant aura indeed; it certainly managed to overpower Archer's own. It was almost magic.

Kimblee kissed his neck and the sound of it seemed quite loud in Archer's ear. The coffee must have already been done, as the room had gone silent except for the sounds of Kimblee's ministrations. Archer knew his own voice would join the mix soon, but he tried to hold back while he could.

His lips trailed up behind Archer's ear and it suddenly occured to him that this version of Kimblee might be particularly gentle. That would be a jarring difference- and a slight disappointment. He considered telling him he didn't need to hold back, but it wasn't something he was ready to tell his Kimblee, so telling this one hardly seemed wise either.

Kimblee checked Archer's pockets on what he supposed must have been an educated guess and pulled out the little tube of lubricant Archer tended to have on him these days. He smiled and nipped at the skin behind Archer's ear but didn't say anything.

He took his time unbuckling Archer's belt and pulling at his waistband, like he was determined to make him late on purpose, and the flippant lack of care somehow aroused him more. If this were his Kimblee, he would have nagged at him to hurry up by now, but it wasn't.

Once he'd freed Archer's cock, he hummed again.

"Do you get this hard for him, too?"

Archer was tempted to say "only for you," as it wasn't technically a lie, but quite literally bit his tongue.

"Trying to keep quiet, I see. Are the walls thin? Are you afraid of being imagined in this position, were someone to hear you?"

His voice was low but his tone was still normal even as his slick fingers prodded at Archer. He couldn't help it; his lip quivered and he gave a muffled moan as the first one eased into him. It was odd being on the receiving end, odd being with this man, but it was all incredibly exciting.

"I should draw back the curtains and let them see you like this." There was that growl he was used to, and fuck if it didn't make his cock twitch.

Kimblee acted patient, but he was already on the third finger a little too quickly, and it hurt a bit but somehow that made it better. Archer wasn't usually so reckless, a little confused as he found himself having to bite back the urge to beg Kimblee to fuck him ruthlessly. His version was always trying to wear his self control thin; maybe it was finally working.

"P-please," he started, and he absolutely could not believe what he wanted to ask for, his face heating up even more than it already had.

Kimblee must have known what he wanted, he was too sharp not to, but he ignored Archer even as he squirmed slightly. The words weren't foreign to his ears, but certainly to his tongue.

"Please fuck me," he begged, taking a sharp breath as he tried to continue, "a-as roughly as you want."

Fuck, this was humiliating in the best way. Archer hadn't even realized he was into that, but it was without a doubt enhancing the experience. Kimblee groaned softly against Archer's skin as he obliged, withdrawing his fingers and slowly, gently pushing his cock into him.

The sensation of being filled like that, and of Kimblee still holding Archer's arms, was almost too much. He grit his teeth again, keeping his mouth closed so his noises could be kept to a minimum.

Kimblee was gentle for a few surreal moments before he paused and, voice strained, asked:

"You want me to be rough?"

Archer shivered and nodded.

"I need you to say it."

"I-I already did," Archer reminded, reluctant to repeat himself.

"You'll say it as many times as I want you to," Kimblee demanded, earning a touchless moan out of Archer.

"Fuck me as hard as you want," he breathed, taken by surprise as Kimblee immediately continued moving, at a much more brutal pace than Archer had expected.

Already, he couldn't stop the noises Kimblee was forcing out of him, sounding even more unhinged than the man himself- or, his version of him, at least. Somehow, he could hardly imagine topping this one. The sounds Kimblee made in his ear now were soft, subdued. As if he were fucking him slowly and lovingly. Archer couldn't help Kimblee's name falling from his lips.

"My first name," he requested instead, surprising Archer. That was certainly a different preference, and he knew for a fact nobody called his Kimblee by his first name.

"Fuck, Solf," he obliged, his voice beginning to escape coherence, and Kimblee growled and fucked him harder. Archer fidgeted, trying to wrench his arms free to touch himself, but to no avail. He'd have to beg for that, too.

"Ki- Solf- Solf, please," he tried so hard, but he continued descending into utter incoherence and Kimblee only seemed more and more pleased by it, the panting and breathy moans in his ear growing heavier and the lips against his skin pulled into a smile.

Kimblee came first, moving his free hand up from Archer's hip to reach across his chest, pulling him close. The adjusted angle along with the movement made Archer's cock brush against the edge of the counter rather than continue being crushed against the cabinet, and just that was enough to make him come.

He took several sharp, incomplete breaths as his body spasmed, beyond satisfied. Kimblee had stopped moving and rested his forehead against the back of Archer's neck. His hand slid back down to Archer's hip, just holding him there.

Once they'd both caught their breaths, Kimblee leaned down and gave him a neat kiss.

"Thanks for that. I've been locked away for a long time and the deprivation can really get to you."

At least that complaint was consistent.

"Fuck," Archer muttered, suddenly torn from the lust induced haze and remembering what time it was. He tried to move, but Kimblee still had his arms. His fingers were inside of him again, collecting the fluid he'd been filled with. Archer couldn't decide if it was more or less humiliating than doing it himself, but he was silently thankful to Kimblee for making the decision for him.

"Don't forget your coffee," Kimblee casually reminded as Archer hastily pulled his clothes back on.

"I don't really have a choice. I'll just get some at work."

He waffled for a moment before running to the bathroom to check his hair. Quite disheveled, of course, and the idea of this not quite stranger stalking after him and watching him in the mirror suddenly occured to him, sending a shiver through his bones. He really couldn't afford a second round right now.

When he came back out after fixing his hair, Kimblee was standing at the window with a mug of the coffee Archer had made in his hand. Archer speedwalked to the door and, since Kimblee was near it, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek out of habit; one induced by his version who constantly insisted on goodbye kisses. He seemed gently taken aback, blinking surprisedly and recoiling a little, but didn't protest.

As he ran to his car, Archer wondered which Kimblee would be waiting for him when he got home. He couldn't decide if he'd be very lucky or very unlucky to end up with both.


End file.
